


And He Bows His Head

by Khirsah



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-12 23:35:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khirsah/pseuds/Khirsah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy loves going down on Kate, her hands tugging at his hair and moving him exactly where she wants him to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And He Bows His Head

_You changed your name_  
And so did I,  
But we won’t be forgiven for the mouths we tried  
To fill with our hopeless seed:  
Beneath her skirt, we fill our need.  
— **Lessons from Underneath the Kachina Woman’s Skirt** , Canvas

**

“Would you…would you just…”

Tommy slides his hands up her calves, feeling the light bristle of stubble against his palms. He remembers the last time she shaved her legs—he hadn’t been able to resist poking his head in every forty-two seconds (on the dot) to ask a dumb question or make a rude observation, loving the way she growled and flicked shaving cream at his head.

She’s been using his shaving cream lately; he thinks he loves that best of all. She _smells_ like him.

“ _Tommy_.”

There’s a clear warning in her voice, and he loves that too. It makes him slow down to a crawl, tongue teasing along her folds, dipping into the slit of her cunt before circling around. Over a hipbone, down the crease of her thigh, across the perineum and along the outer folds again, swirling in dark hair.

“Would you…just… _focus_ ,” Kate pants, arching up in clear invitation, thighs spreading. Tommy presses in tight, gripping her calves and lifting her legs over his shoulders, until they hook there at the knees, heels pressed against his spine. He leans up, mouthing across her stomach, nipping at that infinitesimal curve that no amount of crunches has ever managed to defeat, laving his tongue across the divit of her belly button and thinking dizzily he could stay like this for _hours_. Wrapped up in her, the taste and scent of her around him, feeling the impatience buzzing beneath her skin and knowing he caused that, he made her want this bad enough to ache.

His palms move up and down her outer thighs, thumbs pressing in tight against the bunched-up muscle, massaging a careful line from the insides of her knees to the curve of her ass and riding the hitch of her body. There’s a soft pink flush spreading down her cheeks and across her chest, and her eyes are glassy with annoyance and _want_. Tommy grins against her skin, nipping a hipbone before tracing his thumbs up and into her body, spreading her wide. He leans in and just…breathes against her exposed clit, the delicate wings of her labia, struggling to keep from panting as he presses his hips _tighttighttight_ against the mattress. She’s dripping wet, so slick he can barely stand it—a tease for him as much as her. Tommy gives in to unimaginable temptation and snakes out his tongue, swirling it over the tight bud of her clit, pushing at the delicate hood before tracing down to slide into her clenching body.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Kate hisses, head falling back. Her lips part, breaths coming in quick and hard, and Tommy has to lift his head to watch her—he _has_ to; he isn’t even _trying_ to be an asshole this time—staring at her in dazed silence as she twists her hips and presses her face against the pillow, lost in waves of dark hair.

And then a single baleful eye is staring him down and he grins, thumbs rubbing up the drenched walls of her cunt, tips only just grazing the sensitive peak.

 _Now_ he’s trying to be an asshole.

“Having a good time?” Tommy asks. He shifts his grip, pressing his thumbs in further, pushing _inside_ just enough to make her arch again, small, coral-tipped breasts bouncing _delightfully_. He does it again, and again, watching, riding the artless writhe of her hips as she curses and twists her fingers into the sheets and tries to fuck herself against him.

“Whoa, whoa, impatient much?” Sliding his thumbs up and up and up, through her slick center, over her clit just hard enough to make her tremble, her heels digging so hard into his back he swears he’s going to bruise. “You know, I’d almost think you _wanted_ something from me.”

Both eyes now, narrowed into slits, and oh yeah, oh fuck, this is going to be good.

Tommy leans down and lightly kisses her, right between her thighs, soft as whisper. “You know, Kate, all you have to do is beg.”

 _And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you get shit done_ , Tommy thinks as Kate reaches down with startling speed—even to him!—and grabs two fistfuls of white-blond hair. She twists her fingers in tight, not even trying to be gentle, and shoves his head down even as she arches her hips up gracefully. Her back comes off the bed in an exaggerated bow, feet pressing against his spine, knees gloriously far apart. Tommy drags in a serrated breath, letting himself be _positioned_ , right where she wants him, right where he’s been teasing for the good part of an hour, tongue dancing across her clit but never, never giving her more than a taste of what she needs.

She’s got to take it; he loves it when she _takes it_ from him.

Kate’s thumbs press into his scalp and she tugs his hair again, lifting his chin toward her cunt, still spread open on his fingers. Tommy groans and grinds against the bed, tongue brushing over her length again, again, falling into a steady rhythm dictated by sharp nails against his skin.

He loves doing this for her; loves _servicing_ her. Shoulders pressed against the curve of her thighs, palms gripping her hips and holding her steady, face buried between her legs, her fingers buried in his hair, he feels…

Fuck, he doesn’t feel like being introspective; it just feels _good_ , it feels _great_ , Kate guiding him, wanting him, grinding down against his face as he cups her ass and lifts her up high. She rests her weight against her shoulders, thighs clamping down around his head, and Tommy’s not sure if he could break free if he wanted to, but he can’t imagine ever _wanting_ to, his tongue moving over her in a focused, rapid rhythm now, pressing tight against her clit one, two, three times before swirling to hook into her body, laving deep as he can go and circling up again to push at the tiny hood and thrust over her clit once more.

She’s twisting under/over him, their limbs so tangled together now he can’t even fucking care who is where. He’s zeroed in on his task, following the subtle shift of her hips and the not-so-subtle jerks of her hands, letting Kate move him where she wants him to be, letting her take this from him. The noises she’s making, _Jesus_ , come spreading over his chin, trickling between her asscheeks as he wraps his lips around her swollen labia and _sucks_ , riding the thrashing rut of her hips that’s almost violent enough to give him a knee to the face and a black eye that would be _awesome_ to explain to the rest of the team.

_Hey, Tommy, where’d you get the shiner?_

_Riding a wild pussy, yeehaw!_

…okay, maybe it really would be awesome to explain that to the team.

Kate growls, low in her throat, and he makes himself focus again, pressing the flat of his tongue against her clit and rubbing hard and fast, speeding up into a rapid blur, grinning to himself as her growls become gasping, choked-off cries, loud enough to make him slide one hand down to squeeze the base of his cock. Fuck, he’s leaking against the mattress, precome spreading in a glistening trail along her sheets, but he can’t stop now, can’t worry about that—he has to make this good, has to take this to the end.

She’s flushed all the way down now, jerking and grinding against his face, grip on his hair loosening just a little. Tommy reaches up to grip her hips as tight as he can, muscles going hard and defined as he presses in then _flips_ over, lifting her with him. Kate cuts off a startled cry, one hand slapping out to brace herself against the headboard as Tommy lays back against the pillow and pulls her over him. Her knees dig against his shoulders, legs resting under his back, and yeah, fuck yeah, she’s right there over his face, spread wide and pretty and glistening. 

Tommy slides his hands over Kate’s ass, tilting her hips forward to give her the right idea, then falling back, letting _her_ take the lead. It doesn’t take much. Once she checks to make sure she isn’t smothering him—she isn’t; he’s doing fine, thanks; he’s doing _great_ —she rolls her hips forward, pressing down onto his tongue. The sound she makes is incredible, liquid-hot, a little breathless, like she can’t believe she’s doing this. Both hands press flat against the headboard and her eyes are on his as she _shimmies_ , rocking herself over his spearing tongue, lips parting as she pants in unsteady breaths. From this angle, he can see her breasts move with each thrust, can watch color stain over delicate skin as dark hair tumbles across her face, coiling around her breasts and shoulders and back, swaying back and forth, back and forth as Kate fucks herself on his tongue, as she takes what she needs from him, as she…as she…

He feels it against his tongue—the shuddery, quaking spasm spreading from clit to cunt to core, uncoiling within her—before he sees it on her face. Kate’s eyes go wide, then hooded as her cheeks flush a gorgeous berry-pink, lips parting on ragged breaths. Her entire body trembles, riding out the shockwaves of orgasm, and he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even let himself think about stopping. Tommy sucks at her clit and strokes her wet folds and slicks his face with her come, cock jerking against his belly, throbbing in time with her low, ragged cries.

 _Fuck_. Just, _fuck_.

She tips forward when it’s done, reaching down to lightly touch his hair. Tommy licks her one last time, from tip to tip, loving the delicious shudder that runs through her long limbs. Kate gives a soft chuff of amusement and shifts, and he knows she’s going to make a crack about finally finding a way to make him shut up even before she does, but that’s cool—he’s got a thousand comebacks all at the tip of his tongue, tasting of her come.

She unhooks a leg and slides over him, sinking down against the pillow. He lets her choose how affectionate she wants them to be now, after, pleased when she presses a warm, open-mouthed kiss beneath his ear and twines her arms around his neck.

“What do you want?” Kate murmurs, kissing his neck again, and he’s dizzy with possibilities. Mostly, though, he just wants to slide down between her thighs again, wants to nip at her sensitive skin until she’s gasping and sighing and shifting restlessly beneath him once more. He could come from that; he _has_ come from that. He can’t think of anything he likes better.

Well. Maybe when she grabs his hair and forces him. That’s pretty damn cool.

“Yeehaw,” he murmurs, and Kate lifts her head enough to give him a _look_ , one that makes his whole body twitch with mingled amusement and need and endless, aching affection, like his core has been cracked open ready to be filled with whatever scraps of attention she’ll give him. Like he’s just _aching_ for it.

But hey. Fuck introspection, right?


End file.
